A Little Fall Of Rain
by thelittlepalmtree
Summary: A short Les Mis AU. Obi Wan has always loved the young woman who came to live at his family's inn, but she has found someone else. Unable to see a life without her, he joins the revolution she always championed. Warning:character death.


**_So I decided to get into the Star Wars fandom. This was just a short little tear jerker I wrote to make everyone cry * cackles*. It is a Les Mis AU. Obi Wan is Eponine, Padmé is Marius, and Anakin is Cosette. For non Les Mis fans, this is taking place in post revolutionary Paris. The barricade is an actual barricade in the middle of the city made with furniture and stuff. I hope you all enjoy. _**

The rain seemed to have slowed down, the pain in Obi Wan's middle told him he didn't have much more time. Let the rain fall, it could hardly hurt him now. Let this moment last, his final moment, looking into the gray sky, feeling the cool drops on his skin. Like most, he had seen it as an inconvenience before but somehow the sensations were so sweet, even the pain.

A familiar face blocked his view. The long, dark hair in a braid like a rope brushed against his cheek. Something was wrong, she was crying. He smiled, "Don't fret, Padmé...I like rain."

"Obi Wan..." She pulled his head onto her lap. "Why?"

Why? Because this was the only way. Working at the inn under his father had never bothered him until he met her. Beautiful, revolutionary Padmé, in her white cotton shirt and leather boots. There had always been fire in her eyes, the kind that not even thousands of years of oppression could smother. It was the kind that had always rebelled against her female form, then championed it. And he loved it, that fire, those dark eyes, that long braid, those cotton shirts...

When she first came to the inn her father had disowned her and she wore a long black dress, the only one she didn't sell. That night was the only time he'd ever seen her long, wild hair undone. She had been preparing for a bath and he drew the hot water for her, amazed that she seemed to have no shame in being seen in her thin silk undergarments. Later he learned that her lack of chagrin was a sign of despair. What could an inn hand do to her? She was already a fallen woman.

But Obi Wan didn't touch her. When his father thought to turn her into one of the whores that kept the place a float, he found her work in a shop. When she quit because the owner had tried to touch her breasts, he'd found a way to pay her rent and give her food. When she expressed her anger over the mistreatment from the aristocrats, he introduced her to Sabé's little band of new revolutionaries. She taught him to read, using Voltaire and Rousseau. And in the early hours of the morning she sought his company to tell him her fears and dreams. And when she asked about Anakin, the boy Obi Wan had once known who appeared in the street one day and quickly ran from Inspector Maul, he introduced them.

But it was too hard, watching them together. His sick heart had no cure. When the Barricades went up, he dressed as one of the crowd and joined them. Why not? Why not die for the love he held so dearly, for his best friend, for everything she believed in?

"Obi Wan..." She was still crying. He reached up weakly and pulled the ribbon away from her braid. He fulfilled his first dream of her and ran his fingers through those beautiful curls.

"I love you." A serene smile came to his face.

"I know." More tears now, or was the rain coming down harder?

"Padmé...don't worry."

"I love you." She whispered, "I do... You're my best friend. You can't go..."

He took her hand, "You're not alone...Anakin...he'll take care of you..."

He had to hope marriage to a bourgeoise gentleman would not be the water to her spirit's flame. But there was no time to debate it, no time to consider.

"If I could save you I'd forget him." That surprised him. Padmé didn't lie, not even to dying men. She meant it.

"You can't." He felt a twinge of regret, if he had known how much she did care for him he wouldn't have been so reckless. "Don't fret, Mademoiselle."

"Stop talking to me like a governess." She attempted to cheer him up, but only made herself more upset.

She leaned down to kiss his lips, already getting cold from blood loss and this rain. When his lips released their slight pressure she pulled away. A breath escaped his lips and he was gone.

A bullet hit her shoulder and the world slowly went dark. She didn't fight it. Her companion was gone. Her inn boy, her student, her comrade in arms, her guardian angel was gone.

It was over. Anakin was gone, a short infatuation, a mistake. Soon she would be in the arms of her heart's only true companion. Somewhere beyond the barricade, freedom sang to her.


End file.
